


Permission

by Applewriter



Series: The right man [3]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Consent, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Mention of past abuse and sexual violence, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 10:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12629502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applewriter/pseuds/Applewriter
Summary: Lorca thinks he's helping Tyler to heal, but he needs this just as much as the other man.





	Permission

“May I touch you?” Captain Lorca’s voice was loud in the quiet of his room.

Tyler gulped. “You’re the captain. You can do pretty much anything you want.”

Lorca sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “When you’re with me, and we’re doing this, it’s just two men. No Captain or crew, just you and I.”

Tyler squinted. “I don’t understand, Captain.”

“Don’t call me that in here. I told you, there’s no rank between us - not when we’re doing what we do.” He tilted his head, raised an eyebrow.

Tyler relaxed slightly. “Yes, Cap - I mean, I understand.”

“Good. Don’t stand on ceremony. Come and join me on the couch.”

Tyler hesitated for a moment. “You said you wanted to -.” The words froze in his mouth.

“I asked if I could touch you. I was asking for your consent. I’m not just gonna take without your permission.” Lorca relaxed into the couch cushions, legs spread wide. “You’re allowed to say ‘no’, son.”

Tyler licked his lips. He felt unable to meet Lorca’s gaze as a confusing flush of heat swept through him. “Why do you want to touch me? Is this part of the therapy?”

Lorca leaned forward, a smirk on his face. “This isn’t therapy, son. This is life and we are living it. Lorca sat back, patiently waiting.

Little dots of silver sped by the windows outside. Tyler felt as small as the pinpricks of light. He bit his lip for a heartbeat.

“Yeah, sure you can touch me.” He paused for a second. “Wait, where will you touch me?”

Lorca smiled a little smile. “All over.”

Tyler ducked his head. “I’m okay with that.”

Lorca looked at him in silence for a few moments more before he rose. They met face to face in the centre of the room.

“How do you want me?” Tyler whispered. He could feel the heat of Lorca’s body long before he got into his personal space. Lorca always did that, Tyler observed. The older man moved like he was about to do something dangerous but incredibly sexual, moving with stealth and grace. He was a charming man Tyler could imagine anyone going down to their knees for, loving every moment right until Lorca pulled out a knife and slit your throat.

Tyler snapped back to the present as he felt Lorca’s hand on his shoulder.  
“Easy, boy.” Lorca’s voice was smooth as Earth brandy. “You can say stop anytime,” he drawled. “Consent means a lot to a survivor of sexual violence. You didn’t have a choice before, but you do now.” 

Lorca’s fingers danced over Tyler’s collarbone. Tyler took in an unexpected gulp of breath. Nobody had touched him with affection since he’d come aboard Discovery. The sensations he felt now, as the palm of Lorca’s hand pressed against his chest, was like a cooling shade after weeks spent in the desert. The hand moved lower, skirting the hem of Tyler’s tunic. Both men shivered a little, looked at each other and smiled.

“Permission to take this all off,” Tyler asked, voice rough.

“I told you I’m not your Captain right now. You don’t have to ask permission from me.”

“I know that.” Tyler bent his head. “Just wanna be respectful, that’s all. You make me feel so -.”  
Lorca stilled with fingers pressed just above the waist of Tyler’s pants. “So…”  
“Submissive.”

Lorca laughed out loud. Tyler flushed with shame. He couldn’t trust his stupid mouth for one minute. He’d blown it, he was certain.

“Submissive?” Lorca said. “What an old-fashioned word. I haven’t heard anyone say it out loud in decades.”

Tyler shrugged. “Guess that makes me an old-fashioned sort.” His voice was a mumble, but Lorca heard it anyway. “I feel safe with you - safe enough to put my guard down and know you won’t take advantage of me.”

“Oh really?” In a blur, Lorca moved to throw Tyler to the ground so he landed on his back with a thud. “Permission to get naked granted, Ash.”

Tyler almost sighed with relief. He hadn’t messed up after all. He shimmied out of his uniform as quickly as he could.

Lorca’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the raised scars, the blotches and marks. He raised an eyebrow. “You refused the dermal regenerator?” He swept out his hand and stroked the dense dark fur of Tyler’s chest.

“I’ve got no need or desire to be a pretty boy.” Tyler’s voice was tight and high.

Lorca nodded to himself. “So you get off on being told what to do?”

“Only if it’s you.”

Lorca grasped a handful of Tyler’s chest hair, pulling with a quick harsh tug. Tyler’s hips bucked up even as he grit his teeth.  
“Only me?”

“Only you, Sir.”

Lorca released the chest hair. His eyes swept over Tyler’s body once more. He didn’t look at Tyler’s dick; he could be patient when he needed. Tonight wasn’t remotely about Lorca. Tyler needed this more than he did.

“You may not have a desire to be pretty, but you are a beautiful creature,” Lorca murmured as he dipped his head down low. He pressed his face against Tyler’s chest, feeling his heart beating so very fast, where the hairs grew thick and dense. “You smell good too.” Lorca glanced up. “Son?”

“Sir?”

“May I lick you?”

“God, please!”

Lorca dropped a kiss to the younger man’s nipples, then licked one and the other, taking his time to enjoy the taste and smell of sweat and musk.

Lorca felt the change before Tyler could say a word. He was frozen beneath him, rigid. Tyler’s breath was trapped in his chest, where just before he had been sucking in great bursts of air like it was going out of fashion.

“Look at me, son.” Lorca’s voice was gentle but stern. When there was no response, he knelt looking down at Tyler. Blank eyes stared up at him, but Lorca knew it wasn’t right. “Stay with me, son,” he whispered. “You’re in my quarters on board Discovery. You’re safe now. You’re safe with me.”

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Tyler gulped down a mouthful of air.

“Easy, son.”

“Shit. Did I black out again?”

“Again?” Lorca was incredulous. “How often does that happen?”  
Tyler looked away, but Lorca held his chin and directed him back so they could face each other once more.

“Just a couple of times when I…. Whenever I try to touch myself - masturbate, it happens. I’ve pretty much given up on feeling good like that again.” Tyler looked down. “I thought if you did it I’d be different.”

“Oh, son. You’ve gotta let me know what your limits are. We could have avoided all this.”

Tyler’s eyes welled up. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. I’m already such a mess.”

Lorca cupped Tyler’s face. “You could never disappoint me, son.” He smiled down at the young man, and saw himself reflected as a frightened boy in Tyler’s eyes, cowering from his hated uncle. “May I hold you?” Lorca asked, as the memory of pain assaulted him.

Tyler crawled up and into Lorca’s arms before the words had barely been said. “No place I’d rather be, Sir.”

They remained that way until Lorca disengaged from the embrace some time later, and led them to bed. His knees hurt like hell; he should have moved sooner, but tonight wasn’t supposed to be about him after all.

“Can we just cuddle and sleep?” Tyler asked with lethargy clear in his voice.

“I’m already dreaming,” Lorca replied, and closed his eyes.


End file.
